


in my life i love you more

by starmocha (108am)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/108am/pseuds/starmocha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Underneath her bubbly laughter, bold claims, and brave face, she was scared as hell of it all ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in my life i love you more

**Author's Note:**

> I have all of these vague Twelve/Clara ideas in my head and this is just something I somehow managed to write?
> 
>  **TITLE** | _In My Life_ , The Beatles

Clara felt good in the beginning when she and Ashildr headed off deep into the unknown to traverse all that time and space had to offer. She watched stars being born, saved villages after villages from different threats, crashed a fair number of space cruises, and occasionally dropped by to see Jane Austen (much to Ashildr’s bewilderment). She still felt good, or she hoped she came across as good enough to fool Ashildr’s keen observation.

Sometimes, though, the fast-paced adventures came to a pause as they drifted off quietly in space while trying to catch their breath. After all of the laughter and banter had died away, something buried deep in Clara’s memories stirred and she felt her heart aching again, yearning for something she knew she could no longer have.

“You have the look on your face again. You’re thinking of him again, aren’t you?”

Clara looked across the console to meet Ashildr’s piercing stare. She responded briskly, “Maybe. Don’t you?”

“No.”

“No? In all of those years, you’ve never once thought of the Doctor?”

“You shouldn’t think of him. Nothing good will come out of it.”

Clara frowned at the comment, knowing Ashildr meant well, but millennia alone have left her just as socially inept as the Doctor was, and even more callous than he would ever be (she hoped). She gathered her next thought carefully. “Maybe, but I can’t just not think of him. He’s…a part of me.”

It was Ashildr’s turn to frown, perplexed by Clara’s choice of words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s very important to me. I can’t forget him. I don’t want to forget him.”

Ashildr continued to frown, but after a moment, she turned her attention towards the navigation panel, intending to set coordinates for some new destination, but she remained still, lost in her own thoughts. Clara took her silence as an end towards their conversation, and she was rather relieved for it as well, but that feeling was short-lived.

After a few minutes of silence, Ashildr spoke up calmly, her eyes remaining focused on her still hands, “I can’t stop you, Clara, but I still believe it is not healthy for you to remain fixated on him.”

Clara bit her lower lip. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

Ashildr set the coordinates for their next destination and pulled the lever.

 

 

The weeks quickly rolled by since their conversation concerning Clara’s attachment for the Doctor, and in all of that time, neither woman brought the subject up again. It wasn’t until after their latest escapade on a distant planet where they failed to save a young boy from his preordained sacrifice that Clara found herself mulling over her own destiny.

She knew eventually she would have to go back to that specific place and time and face death head on again. She knew she would have to be brave again and face the raven, accept that her life had reached its end. She knew he would be behind her, watching helplessly as she stood there, just waiting to die.

Her hands clenched into fists when he crossed her mind again. She felt something dropped in her stomach, seemingly never reaching the bottom. Clara knew now what would happen next. What the Doctor would choose to do in spite of her last order to him.

The very image of him alone, torturing himself for four and half billion years all for her sake, all for the very slightest sliver of hope of saving her, broke her heart. She didn’t want him to be alone and hurting like that. He was so stubborn for ignoring her order.

“My death was a fixed point, right? It was meant to have happened. Why?”

Ashildr looked up from her journal, surprised by Clara’s sudden question. She made a quick note of the page she was on and then gently closed the book, setting it carefully on her lap. She folded her hands over it, focusing now on her troubled companion instead.

“I’m sorry, Clara, I wish I could offer you a valid explanation, but it—it just had to be.”

Clara nodded, understanding and also not really, but there was no point now in placing blames on such concept that no beings even had any reign over. She felt a tear slowly gliding down her cheek, but she ignored its presence.

“Have you ever been…‘ _cared_ ’ deeply by someone, Ashildr?”

“I have been loved by many.”

“But what was the extent of their love?”

Ashildr closed her eyes, trying to recall all of her past lovers and the memories she had shared with each man. She frowned, when she only saw blurred images of wildflowers and tender kisses and naïve promises, but nothing terribly meaningful enough that she had memorized by heart. She opened her eyes again.

“He loved you.”

Clara wanted to flinch at hearing the past tense. She held her cool, however, choosing to pretend she didn’t hear such a terrible thing. “He’s a passionate man. He’s loved all of us.”

“But there was something special about you, correct?”

Clara didn’t answer, didn’t dare to even believe that she could be special enough for him. He had many companions. He had loved and cried over parting ways and losing them all. She had known her time with the Doctor wouldn’t last forever. Her fragile mortal life was just a flicker of a flame compared to his bright, seemingly neverending existence. She wasn’t special. Wasn’t _that_ special. Just another companion. Just someone who would eventually be replaced.

“You meant a lot to him,” Ashildr continued when she saw Clara suddenly becoming quiet and troubled by her last question. She stood up, placing her journal in her seat so she could walk across the room to Clara. She hesitantly took Clara’s hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, Clara. I really am.”

She snapped out of her daze and looked at the immortal in front of her. She felt more tears trickling down her cheeks, but she ignored those as well. She placed her other hand over Ashildr’s, barely comprehending the growing concern the other woman showed her.

She tried to keep her voice steady, “It’s fine.”

 

 

Clara knew she was not fine. She said she would eventually go back to that fixed point after taking the long way round, but she was more scared than she let on. Underneath her bubbly laughter, bold claims, and brave face, she was scared as hell of it all ending.

What awaited her in death? Was there an afterlife? Or would it just be nothing?

She hadn’t done all that she had wanted to do. Even with her own TARDIS and all of the time she had before her final heartbeat, it didn’t feel like enough. She was not seeing and experiencing the adventures as only he could show her. She only felt like she was emulating him to fill the empty space in her life.

“You’re thinking of him again.”

Ashildr’s voice couldn’t even penetrate the growing sadness surrounding Clara. The younger woman could only let out a weak response. “Yeah, I am.”

“Clara—”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Clara’s voice was sharper than she intended. She felt something tightening inside her chest, but she tried to push it out of her mind. “Don’t, please. I know what you’re going to say, so please don’t. Just let me think of him. It doesn’t affect the Universe in any way, so please just let me think of him.”

The pain in her chest was growing tighter, like something was squeezing her insides with all of its might. She felt lightheaded as she tried to speak. She couldn’t even see Ashildr anymore. She just felt like she was talking to someone else across from her.

“It kills me to know he’s somewhere out there—maybe just within my reach—and I can’t even go to him.” She was shaking now; the tears were threatening to fall again. She wiped her eyes furiously with the sleeve of her sweater. She tried to calm herself, but her voice still came out trembling. “I don’t understand any of this. I don’t understand why we met only for things to end this way. I don’t understand why us being together would impact the Universe on a grand scale like this. I don’t understand any of this!”

Ashildr gripped Clara’s shoulders, intending on calming the other woman, but failing as her companion could only continue ranting while her eyes averted Ashildr’s.

“I wanted him to forget so he could move on.” Clara felt her legs growing weaker. She fell into Ashildr’s arms. There was no more point in hiding the tears. “But deep down, I had hoped he would remember me. I wanted one last hurrah with him. Just the Doctor and Clara Oswin in the TARDIS together.”

She felt Ashildr running her hand through her hair. She could practically feel the immortal’s heartbeat and she almost felt jealous of how truly alive Ashildr was and she was not. “When he said _that_ , I felt something inside dying. He looked so hopeful and still so happy and very much the Doctor. How could I be selfish? I wanted very much to be selfish, but I couldn’t. I can’t. He could be right next to us and I still couldn’t go to him.”

“Clara…”

“He doesn’t remember me. That’s good—for him, the universe, everyone else, but it still hurts. It hurts a lot. My heart is not beating, so why does it hurt so goddamn much?”

Ashildr remained silent, having no perfect, comforting answer for Clara’s question in spite of her millennia walking the earth and accumulating more and more knowledge than any creature could ever hope for. She vaguely remembered a similar pain as to what her companion was referring to, but it had been so long since she buried those feelings, vowing silently to not let herself be cocoon in such despair and grief again.

“Clara—”

“I’m not okay, Ashildr. I’m scared of the possibility that there would be a day I would be okay.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because then it means I would have forgotten him, and I don’t want that to ever happen.”

“No one can ever forget the Doctor, Clara.”

Clara took an odd comfort in Ashildr’s words, whether they were true or not. She settled into her embrace and listened sadly to the other woman’s steady heartbeat.

She wished she could feel her own again.

 

 

After a brief skirmish with the Cybermen, Clara decided she wanted to make a quick stop by Earth to visit her family and friends from a distance. She never did found closure in saying goodbye to them, though now she wondered if she even should. Ashildr didn’t protest, and used this opportunity to do her own errands.

Clara wandered around London for hours, hands in pocket, and passed by many unsuspecting folks. She’d seen her father bringing home grocery, saw a few former students out getting a bite to eat, and she had even seen some of the friends she made during her time with the Doctor. It didn’t seem right to approach any of them, but it made her happy to just catch a glimpse from the distance.

She was passing the park she used to go as a little girl with her mother when she heard a familiar sound near the swings. She imagined if her heart was still beating, it would freeze at this very instant. Butterflies filled her stomach as her mind raced with all sorts of wild hopeful thoughts.

 _It’s him!_ , she practically squealed when she saw the familiar blue police box manifesting. It took all of her willpower to resist the urge to burst through that door and run up to the Doctor and envelope him in the tightest hug she could manage.

Instead, she hid behind a tree, watching and waiting for him to exit. It took a few minutes, but then the door burst opened and out popped…five penguins?

If she wasn’t already so used to the Doctor’s peculiar behavior, she might have found this to be an odd sight. Rather, she let out a fond snort when the Doctor finally made his appearance, with a sixth penguin under his arm.

“Well, Adele, I don’t think this is the Antarctic.” He held a finger up into the air. “No, much too warm.”

The other five penguins waddled back to the Doctor when he started squawking at them. He made more strange noises and Clara watched as all six penguins waddled back inside. He shut the door behind him and settled down on the swing, sighing.

“Either dementia has finally caught up to me or perhaps this place feels really familiar.”

He pushed himself back and let the momentum glide him through the air. Clara kept her eyes on him, fighting the strong urge to approach him, join him, talk with him.

“It really is not polite to spy on people.”

She jumped, not expecting to be noticed. The Doctor slowed to a halt and turned his attention over to where Clara was hiding.

“Show yourself, spy.”

Clara gathered all of her nerves and hesitantly stepped out from behind the tree. She felt the butterflies multiplying in her stomach when the Doctor’s face brightened up at seeing her. He practically leapt from the swing as he closed the distance between them.

“You! The waitress!”

Clara stopped in her steps. She swallowed hard. “Um, yeah. Hey, you.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you have forgotten me already?”

“No,” Clara practically yelled, but somehow managed to maintain a natural, casual volume. “No, no, you’re the guy looking for that girl—Clara, was it?”

He nodded and thrusted his hands in his coat pockets. Clara noticed the gesture.

“Have you—have you found her, yet?”

“No, no, no,” he sighed, looking up at the gloomy sky. “But I always feel like I’m a few steps behind her. Really close.” He turned his attention over to Clara, smiling. “And what are you doing here in—I want to say London.”

She chuckled and nodded. “It is London, and I’m just here…visiting family and some friends.” It wasn’t a total lie, Clara told herself, not really happy to be lying to the man she cared about.

The Doctor nodded in understanding. He started to open his mouth to speak but several squawks from inside the TARDIS disrupted his thought. Both Clara and the Doctor turned their attention to the blue box when a crash followed one of the frantic squawks.

“Is—is everything alright in there?”

“Oh, everything’s fine, it’s just—I’m just going to need a minute.” He held up one finger as he rushed back over to the TARDIS. He opened the door a crack and let out his own loud squawks. Then he paused, seemingly considering something before turning his attention over to Clara. “Say, how about you come along with me?”

Clara wanted to scream in joy by the sudden invitation. She tried to maintain her ignorance. “With—with you? To where?”

“Oh, just anywhere and everywhere.”

“Is that some sort of creepy pick up line? Because I’ve heard worse.”

“ _No!_ ” He scowled at her, and Clara realized just how much she missed that grumpy looking face of his with those big old eyebrows. “It’s something to be seen. So what do you say?”

He held his hand out to her, and Clara fought her natural instinct to reach for it. She shook her head slowly, sadly.

“Now’s not the right time,” she explained when the Doctor dropped his hand in confusion. “I still have things to do.”

He smiled, accepting her vague rejection. He shrugged. “The invitation is always opened, you know.”

Clara smiled in return. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She waved at him. “See you when I see you.”

“Right back at you, Waitress.”

 

 

Clara returned to her own TARDIS with an extra perk in her steps, something Ashildr quickly pointed out. Clara shrugged, feigning ignorance.

“I saw my dad. It felt good to see him.”

“And you saw the Doctor.”

Clara froze. “Were you spying on me?”

“Not intentionally,” Ashildr started to explain, “but I was on my way back to the TARDIS when I saw you two speaking. I didn’t hear a word if that makes you feel better, but I take it you’ve found some sort of closure with him?”

Clara considered Ashildr’s question, and she shrugged, not knowing completely for sure herself. She countered Ashildr’s question with her own: “What do you think it means if we cross path with him by chance?”

Ashildr pondered over the question. She smiled. “Maybe the Universe just can’t keep you two apart.”

“Is that so?” The butterflies returned, but they fluttered gently in her stomach. “It’s nice to think of it that way.”

“You didn’t go with him?”

Clara shook her head. “No, it didn’t seem right. Not right now. Maybe—not right now.”

Ashildr noticed Clara’s hesitancy to continue. She walked over to the navigation panel and started to set the coordinates for their next destination. “It’s been a while since you’ve popped in to say hello to Jane.”

Clara grinned and walked over next to Ashildr. She reached for the lever and with the slight raise of Ashildr’s brow as a prompt to continue, she pulled, setting the TARDIS in motion.

 

 

Clara wondered how long it would take to go back to that fixed point. She wondered how many more times the Universe would let her and the Doctor cross path again.

Deep down, she hoped they would never stop.


End file.
